


Welcome To The Dark Carnival (YouTubers x Authors)

by CorruptAmelia22, DrownedTrying



Series: This Is The End [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Demons, Dopplegangers, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Killing friends, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why is everyone evil, YouTube, kinda creepy, reverse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-06 19:09:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorruptAmelia22/pseuds/CorruptAmelia22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrownedTrying/pseuds/DrownedTrying
Summary: Basically, this is a story of how each Youtuber gets possessed by their demons, or evil halves, and how they deal with them. In this story, "X Author" does NOT mean there will be any romance. There will only be death and betrayal and fights. It only means that we, the authors, will be interacting with the characters. A fun twist instead of an "X Reader," amirite? Bare with us, we have some cool ideas for this story.





	1. Chapter 1

Jack wiped his brow, soft pants escaping his lips. He was _finally_ done bringing every box into his new home, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to take a break. The boxes needed to be unpacked. 

“Son of a whore,” he groaned, stretching. His back popped as he bent backwards, closing his eyes. On top of unpacking, Jack still needed to set up his new recording studio and record a few videos. Afterall, he couldn’t let sixteen _million_ subscribers without their two videos of his game plays. Jack made a mental list of what he needed to do and sighed. It was barely eleven in the morning, and he could tell it would be a _very_ long day. The familiar buzzing of his phone alerted his attention. When he reached over, he smiled. It was Mark. Still smiling, he pressed the green button.

“Top of ta’ morning to ya, Mark!” he greeted.

“Hey there, Jackaboy! How’s England?” Mark laughed when he heard the Irishman’s loud groan. “Not that well, is it?”

“It’s not that. It’s all these feckin’ boxes. What’re the chances of ya comin over ta help your ol friend out?” Jack asked jokingly, knowing it would be impossible. There was an entire ocean separating the two gamers, and though it would be nice to see Mark more often, there was no way they could see each other unless it was over Skype or Discord, or if one of them decided to fly to the other country to visit the other. Jack, he realized, is sick and tired of flying and traveling, so he counts himself out. 

“Sadly, they look slim,” Mark mused, shaking his head. The Irishman held his phone between his shoulder and ear, moving towards one of the towers of boxes. He might as well start in on unpacking, as exhausting as it would be. Jack lifted the top box and sat it on the carpeted floor, pulling out his box cutter from his front pocket. “How’re you liking England so far?”

“It’s different,” he replied, cutting the tape and opening the flaps of the box. The box held his movies, CDs, and his DVD player. 

_Might as well hook that up,_ he thought, carefully picking up the machine. 

“Quite a stretch from Ireland, huh?” Jack hummed in confirmation, grunting as he reached for the wall outlet, the plug to his DVD player in hand. “California is hot, but what can you expect?”

“How hot is it over there?” Jack questioned.

“One hundred and seventeen degrees,” came Mark’s calm reply.

“Motherfucker!” the green-haired man exclaimed, nearly dropping his cell phone. Mark’s laughter could be heard over Jack fumbling to correct the position of his phone _before_ it fell. “Why don’t ya feckin’ leave that shit?”

“I like the view, I guess,” Mark said. Jack shook his head in disappointment, sighing.

“Ya feckin’ Americans are weird as balls,” he muttered.

“Say that to your millions of American subscribers,” Mark laughed. Jack chuckled and continued to pull out DVDs and CDs, placing them on the entertainment center. This was the only part about unpacking he liked: organizing everything to where he liked it. Of course, the organization would not remain as perfect as it once will be, but that leaves the fun of reorganizing everything all over again. Yep, this will be pure hell. The two chit chatted as Jack unpacked, slowly making his way to the kitchen, as Mark did, well, whatever Marks do. He could be painting his toenails for all Jack knew.

“Ah, finally. Gettin’ to ta’ kitchen. Maybe I’ll cook me up some grub,” Jack sighed, wiping his brow once more. Mark chuckled on his end.

“Gonna have some fish and chips?” the ravenette questioned. The Irishman scrunched his nose.

“I’d rather eat shit from me Ma’s ass!” Jack yelled. “For fuck’s sake, Mark! I’mma make some good ‘ol potatoes! Potatoes are ta’ feckin’ _best!”_

“I remember when you played _Raft,_ you got so fucking excited over those damn things,” Mark grumbled. Jack beamed, but it wavered. He could’ve sworn he saw his reflection in the hallway mirror grinning evilly at him, but how silly would that be? It’s not like it’s some silly fanfic written by a fan or anything. “Hey, Jack, you there?”

“I...what?” he blinked. He momentarily forgot that he was talking to Mark.

“I was asking you if you were planning to come to one of the vid-cons in a few months,” Mark said, furrowing his brow. Jack blinked again, but shook off the sudden discomfort he experienced.

“Oh, of course I’ll be going ta’ the vid-con. What do ya think I am? A wee lamb?” the Irishman challenged. 

“You are when it comes to horror games,” Mark pointed out.

“So are ya,” Jack shot back. Silence tore through both men before they started to chuckle. Jack glanced around and saw he unpacked two or three boxes, which was an accomplishment in itself. He would’ve given up within five minutes to play some games.

“Well, it was nice talking to you, Jack. Let me know when you get settled in, alright?” the ravenette said.

“I will. Talk ta’ ya in a bit, Mark,” Jack replied, pressing the red button. Stretching out his back, the green-haired man walked to the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet, freezing when he sees a flash of green in his window from the corner of his eye. An eyebrow raised, Jack backtracks and looks out said window, looking for anything that could produce that shade of green, namely a camera. Finding no camera, nor anything that could produce a green light, Jack opened the window and inhaled. The English air wasn’t as sweet as Ireland’s, but it could be worse, he mused. 

Jack already misses Ireland.

With a sad smile, Jack closes the window once more and leaves his new home, his mind set on finding a grocery store. There were many ways to cook potatoes, but picking a dish would be the difficult part. He thought of the recipes his Ma had taught him growing up, and he thought of recipes he’s seen online. Knowing he still had a lot of unpacking to do, Jack settled with the final thought of baked potatoes. With that delicious thought in mind, the Irishman made his way to the grocery store, unaware of glowing green eyes watching his every move.

Across the Atlantic Ocean, Mark threw a tennis ball in his backyard, watching as his beloved dog chased after it. He grinned as she picked it up and ran to him, the neon yellow ball lodged between her jaws. 

“Good girl, Chica!” Mark praised, taking the ball and patting her on the head. Chica barked happily, wagging her tail. The Youtuber threw the ball once more, his brown eyes watching as his companion chased after the ball once more. After his call with Jack, Mark had fed Chica and had a quick snack. Almost immediately after, she had demanded they go outside by bringing her human a tennis ball. Not that Mark minded, of course. He loved playing with his dog, even if it meant staying outside in the heat. Then again, when he would go back inside, he would be met with cool air. 

“Bark bark!” Chica yapped, catching his attention. Mark blinked and realized he had spaced out. Smiling, Mark grabbed the ball.

“Are you ready to go inside?” he asked. Chica barked happily, running around in a few circles. Mark took that as a ‘yes.’ “C’mon, girl! Let’s go inside!” She ran to the door, her tail wagging even faster. Mark followed suit, smiling as he opened the door. Chica immediately ran in, coming to a stop as she stared at the corner of Mark’s living room. The brunette thought nothing of it as he made his way to the kitchen. 

_Might as well give Chica fresh water,_ Mark thought, picking up her water bowl. As he was rinsing out the bowl to fill it with water, Mark heard his beloved pet growling. 

“Chica? What’s the matter, girl?” he asked, going to her side after placing the bowl on the floor. Chica continued growling at something Mark couldn’t see, which concerned him. He put a hand on her back, noticing instantly the hairs on her neck were standing on end. “Come, girl. Let’s get you something to eat and drink,” he said, gently trying to pull her away from the corner. Chica refused to move, even when Mark brought one of her favorite treats to her. Shrugging, Mark left his dog to staring and growling at the corner. 

_Might as well record a new video,_ the brunette thought, glancing back at Chica. She hadn’t moved an inch. With a sigh, Mark walked to his recording studio and closed the door, trusting his dog with the rest of the house. Looking through the games on his computer, he decides on _Dream Daddy._ Mark smirks in amusement, knowing his fans would enjoy watching him ‘fall for a man.’ The sound of Chica barking and running around alerted him once more, and thinking she was in danger, Mark runs to his door and throws it open. Chica stands before him, growling up at him.

“Chica? What’s the matter?” the YouTuber asked, concern lacing his voice. There was something about the way she glared at him that sent a shiver down Mark’s spine. It was almost as if she was glaring behind him at something he couldn’t see. With that thought, Mark turned and glanced behind him.

Nothing. Nothing was there.

When Mark turned back to Chica, he noticed she was baring her teeth dangerously at him. He takes a step back, slowly closing the door. 

_Weird,_ he thinks, returning to his computer. _She’s never done_ that _before._ Mark furrowed his brow, Googling her strange behavior. Mark clicked on ‘stories.barkpost.com’ and scanned through the site, a concentrated look on his face as he takes in the information.

**...There have been many claims of dogs who have sensed when a family member or owner was going to pass away…”If you observe a dog standing in the corner, barking at nothing visible, then there’s a pretty good chance that he’s barking at an entity, spirit, or energy that doesn’t belong there."**

“A spirit?” Mark mumbled. He glanced at his door, seeing the shadow of Chica’s paws. She hadn’t moved an inch. “But...My house isn’t haunted. At least, not that I know of.” Mark frowns, not recalling anything out of the ordinary. No cold spots, items moving by themselves, no voices, no nothing. Yet the way Chica behaved worried him. _Could_ there be something in his house? Did a spirit follow him home whilst he was out and about? He wasn’t sure, but the thought unnerved him. As much as he hope it’d be, Mark knew this wasn’t some horror game he’d be playing if there _was_ a spirit in his house. 

Either way, this wasn’t going to be fun. 

Swallowing his pride, Mark forced a smile and double-clicked on _Dream Daddy._ He might as well get his mind off of things. Not noticing his shadow shifting behind him, Mark began recording. Two slits opened on his shadow’s head, glaring daggers at the YouTuber.

“Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier and welcome back to _Dream Daddy…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The website Mark goes to is: http://stories.barkpost.com/can-dogs-sense-ghosts/
> 
> We do not claim any ownership to their posts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're still meeting all the characters. These few chapters may not be as good as the ones that will follow, but a chapter is a chapter, right?
> 
> My best friend and I are going to be writing this fanfic together, even coming up with "screenshots." As of right now, we're waiting for her to get an invite from AO3, then she'll be added as a co-author. 
> 
> We also decided that new chapters will try to be updated every Friday, just so it gives us time to decide what we want to do.
> 
> One more note, if you notice that in the tags, "Breaking the Fourth Wall" is among them. Keep an eye out for any random sentence or phrase that would indicate a breakage of the beloved fourth wall. 
> 
> Anyways, onto the chapter! (Both authors are exhausted and sleep deprived.)

Sunlight spilled into a darkened room, gently covering itself over two sleeping forms. The larger form stretched and rolled over, holding onto the female next to him. Said female smiled, but didn’t open her eyes.

“Wade, it’s time to get up,” Molly mumbled, her voice groggy with sleep. Her fiancée groaned, holding her closer and burying his face in her neck. “Wade.”

“I know,” came his muffled reply. Molly stifled a giggle. His beard and moustache tickled her neck. The female gamer struggled to sit up, but was pulled back onto the bed. 

“Wade, I need to get up,” Molly said, feeling more awake. Wade shook his head.

“A few more minutes.” She sighed and leaned back against him, her eyes trailing the room. The sunlight, she noticed, slowly began brightening the room. It was definitely time to wake up.

“It’s been a few minutes,” she mused, feeling Wade’s grumble on her back and neck.

“Then let us have a few more,” he protested. Molly shook her head.

“I’m not going to be your personal alarm clock, dear.”

“Be my pillow, then,” Wade mumbled. Molly sighed and struggled to get his arms from around her.

“I need to feed Keeters,” she said. Speaking of the cat, Keeters jumped up onto the bed, meowing his little heart out. Wade groaned once more and released Molly from his grip, sitting up to stretch. He watched as the love of his life stood and walked to the kitchen to feed their beloved pet. With a soft smile, Wade stood and proceeded to dress himself for the day. He briefly wondered how his old pal was doing. Deciding to give him a call, Wade dialed Mark’s number, waiting for him to pick up.

“Hey Wade,” Mark greeted. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

“Tired,” came his reply. Mark chuckled.

“You’re always tired,” Mark teased. Wade rolled his eyes, walking over to his recording studio.

“That’s because I game all day and game all night.” Wade sat at his computer, pressing the power button to bring it to life. “How about you?” Silence. Wade furrowed his brow and checked to see if the call hadn’t dropped. It didn’t. “Mark? You there?”

“What?” Mark asked, seemingly confused.

 _Strange, he never acts like this,_ Wade thought, beginning to worry.

“I asked how you were, but you didn’t answer,” he informed his friend. Mark made a distracted noise.

“Oh, sorry about that,” Mark said.

“Is everything okay? You seem a little distracted.” Wade heard his childhood friend sigh heavily.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” Mark mumbled, most likely running his hand through his hair.

“I already do,” Wade replied with a half smile. “Just tell me what’s going on. I won’t judge. Much.” Mark chuckled before taking a deep breath.

“Yesterday, Chica started growling at a corner of the living room. I didn’t think anything of it, so I ignored it. Then, before I started recording another episode of _Dream Daddy,_ she started growling at me and baring her teeth. She hasn’t done that before, Wade,” Mark rushed.

“Yeah, that’s a little-”

“That’s not it,” Mark interrupted. Wade was silent to let his friend continue. “Last night, I felt as if I was being watched. Not through the window or anything, either. It felt like someone, or some _thing_ was in the house with me. I swear I see my shadow moving out of the corner of my eye, even when I’m standing completely still. When I was trying to sleep, it felt as if there was someone standing over me, just staring at me. I swear I heard someone laughing all night long. Sometimes, it was outside my bedroom door. When I’d check, it’d be right behind me or in my ear. Chica does nothing but growl at me, for no reason at all. I had to keep her outside all night long.” Mark paused for air, leaving Wade speechless. He had no idea what to say to _any_ of that. 

“I...I’m sorry that’s happening,” Wade said after a moment of silence. Mark sighed.

“I tried recording _Dream Daddy_ earlier. When I went back to edit, the video kept glitching, and at times, it looked as if someone was behind me. The audio was corrupt, too. All that was captured was laughter. Dark laughter. It sounded like the laughs I heard when I was trying to sleep. Not only that, but I heard what sounded like tormented souls screaming in agony.”

“Oh damn,” was Wade’s reply. He wasn’t sure if Mark was making it up or not, and he was honestly concerned about his friend’s mental state. What if it _was_ real? Mark isn’t the type of person to lie about something too serious, and judging from the way he talked about, well, whatever it was he experienced, it wasn’t just some random story written by two teenaged girls who have nothing better to do while they wait to go to college. Then again, it doesn’t seem like something that would happen in real life. Either way, he felt conflicted. 

“Wade, breakfast is ready,” Molly said, popping her head into the recording studio. Wade looked at her and nodded, smiling at her before she disappeared behind the door.

“I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Mark said, his voice tired and monotone. Wade felt regret wash over him as he hung up, walking down to the kitchen. He met Molly with a peck on her lips.

“Are you okay?” Molly asked as Wade piled eggs, toast, and bacon on a plate. He shrugged.

“Mark’s having a hard time right now, and I don’t know how to help him,” Wade sighed. Molly furrowed her eyebrows in concern. She knew the two were extremely close, so she knew whatever bothered Mark bothered Wade, and vice versa.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, following her fiancée to the table. She sits across from him, a cup of coffee already in front of her. Wade stares at his plate before taking a deep breath, telling her everything Mark had told him. As Molly listened, she thought about what could be causing Mark to see these things. She believed in spirits, so perhaps he was being haunted? Maybe a poltergeist? It was uncertain, and she was no expert like one of the authors writing this fanfic, but it may be a good idea to ask a medium or psychic to check the place out. She voices her thought to Wade.

“I don't know,” Wade mumbles, putting his face in his hands. “I don't even know if Mark believes in that kind of stuff.”

“It doesn't hurt to try,” Molly points out. Wade shrugs, taking a bite out of his toast. He hums in approval.

“I suppose you're right…”

“Of course I am. I have more brain cells than you and all the Fruity Loops combined,” she smirks. Wade chuckles and continues eating.

“Whatever you say.”

A few states away, a young gamer taps at the left and right keys, his green eyes staring tiredly at the screen. His friends had long since logged off MineCraft, leaving him to continue mining for diamonds. The teen yawns, stretching his arms over his head. Deciding he’s had enough for the night, he logs off and stands, going towards his bed. 

“Finally, I can get some sleep,” he mumbles, rubbing his eye. He pulls his shirt over his head and checks his phone for any last notifications. “Frick!! It’s eight A.M.!” JP rushes to his closet, yanking out fresh clothes. As he rips off his gym shorts and pulls on a clean pair of jeans, JP pulls his curtains open, allowing sunlight to enter his room. He winces and blocks his eyes, but quickly forces himself to get used to the light. Mentally cursing, the teen runs out of his room and down the stairs as he yanks on a gaming shirt.

“Jeremy! It’s almost time to bring Oliver to the vet!” his mom yells from the kitchen. JP bursts into the room, startling his mother. She looks him over, frowning. “Let me guess, you spent all night gaming again?”

“Sorry, Mom! I lost track of time,” the youth explains as he pulls on his socks and shoes. Oliver greets him with a happy bark, wagging his tail. Mrs. Woodward sighs, turning back to the stove as she stirs - what is that? Oatmeal? _Delicious._

“Even though it’s summer, you need to go to bed and get up early, especially when your dog has a vet appointment, alright?” she informs. JP nods and quickly eats the bowl of oatmeal his mom places in front of him. “Summer’s almost over, so you need to get your sleep schedule back on track.”

“Yes, Mom,” the teen says around a mouthful of food.

“You also have to be ready for college. Speaking of which, we need to get you some more school supplies,” she continues.

“Okay, Mom,” JP replies, standing and searching for Oliver’s leash.

“I also want you to make some more friends this year,” Mrs. Woodward said, grabbing the deserted bowl and washing it.

“Alright, Mom.” JP puts on Oliver’s leash and grabs his keys and wallet, checking the time. 

“You spend too much time on that computer of yours, playing those silly games. I hear you screaming in the middle of the night when-”

“Mom, I’ve got it,” JP says with a smile, pulling open the front door. “I really have to go, though.”

“Alright, dear. Be safe!” His mother watches as he opens the door of his car for his beloved dog before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Don’t get into another accident!”

“The first one wasn’t my fault!” he calls before closing the door. The teen immediately buckles his seatbelt before starting the engine. He waves to his mother before slowly backing out of the driveway. He then began driving towards the vet’s office, one hand on the wheel and the other on his best friend’s back. “You know,” JP began, shooting Oliver a smile, “after your appointment, we’ll head to the park and go for a walk. That sound good?” 

“Woof!” Oliver responded, panting with a doggy grin. The gamer laughed, petting his best friend as he continues driving. After a few minutes, he decides he can’t take the silence for much longer. With a press of a button, Panic! At The Disco began blasting through the speakers. Neither male was affected by it, and instead, they welcomed it with open arms, so to speak. JP hummed along to the music, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

“I chime in with a ‘Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?!’” the teen sang along, nodding his head slightly to the music. “No, it’s much better to face these kinds of things, with a sense of poise and rationality.” Oliver added his own lyrics by barking along, much to his companion’s amusement. The duo seemed a bit disappointed when JP finally pulled into the driveway. “Sorry, boy. Fun time’s over,” he apologized, cutting off the engine. Oliver whimpered, but followed his owner into the vet’s office.

“Good morning. Do you have an appointment?” the elderly woman asked from behind the counter. JP offered her a smile, walking over to her.

“Yes, I have a nine-thirty appointment for Oliver under Jeremiah Woodward,” he said, giving Oliver the hand motion to sit. Oliver obeyed and sat.

“May I see a form of identification?” JP shoved his hand into his pocket, fishing his wallet out. He handed his I.D. card to the lady, waiting patiently as she matched the information on his card to the information on her computer screen. “The doctor should be out shortly. You’re welcome to have a seat,” she said, passing his I.D. card back to him. JP nodded in thanks before going to the chairs, putting away his card.

“Man, I’m exhausted. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter, Oliver?” the teen asked, petting his dog. Oliver only smiled. “You mind if I close my eyes for a moment?” His beloved dog laid at his feet, seemingly having the same idea. JP chuckled and crossed his arms, leaning back as he closed his eyes.

It was dark. Inky darkness was all JP could see. He didn’t even know where he was, or how he got there.

“Hello?” he called out, looking around. No response. JP cupped his hands around his mouth. “HELLO??” A soft cry responded to him. Without a second thought, JP sprinted towards the cry. The cry got louder as he got closer, soon becoming a sob. Furrowing his brow, JP pushed forward. A cave-like structure seemed to appear out of nowhere, catching the young man in surprise. “Years of playing horror games has taught me that this is a bad idea,” he mumbled, standing outside of the cave. There was a dim light deep inside the cave, and the sobbing seemed to be coming from the light source. Swallowing his pride, the gamer marched inside, cautiously looking around. 

After what felt like hours, JP finally made it to the light source. A lit torch was mounted in a holder drilled into the cave’s wall, and below it, a girl, either around his age or a few years younger, sat curled up in a ball, sobbing. She seemed to be unaware of his presence. She had wavy, light blonde hair that seemed to reach her shoulder blades, and a petite figure. Judging from her pale skin, the girl didn’t come from Florida, nor any of the southern states.

“Hello?” JP whispered, wincing as the girl jumped. The girl stilled, hardly breathing. “U-Uhm, miss? Are you alright?” The gamer took a step back as the girl stood, keeping her head down. Her blonde locks prevented him from seeing her face. 

_Man, she’s short,_ JP thought, noting that she only came up to his collarbone. Then again, he was rather tall for his age.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” the girl said, not once looking up at him. JP was taken aback. “Bad things happen when you find a stranger in a cave.” The girl laughed, but it was void of any form of sanity. 

“Who are you?” the gamer asked, taking another step back. The girl sighed in irritation.

“Haven’t you seen a damn horror movie? ‘Who are you,’ ‘What do you want.’ Always the same idiotic questions that don’t provide you with any helpful answers,” she snapped, turning towards him. There, a grin. JP could see a grin, but he quickly noticed her teeth were sharp, almost like a shark’s. 

“Hey, I’m only trying to get out of here!” he said, raw panic washing over him. His legs trembled as he backed up even more. Moving quickly, the girl got in his face, her grin stretching ear to ear and her eyes - her _glowing red eyes,_ bore into his own. That’s when JP noticed the girl wasn’t even standing. She was _floating._

“You can’t leave,” the girl said, her voice glitching and static following it. JP tried to hold his head in pain to fight against the static, which was beginning to give him a migraine, but quickly discovered he was paralyzed in place. “You’re in my world now, and there’s no escape.” His vision turned to black, the sounds of her laughter echoed throughout the cave.

JP jumped awake, a cold sweat covering him. He looked up to see the veterinarian standing above him, a hand on his shoulder.

“Mister Woodward? I’m ready to see Oliver, now,” the vet said with a soft smile. JP blinked and stood, looking down at Oliver. The dog stared at him, as if sensing what the teen had dreamt of. JP patted him on the head and followed the doctor into one of the rooms, Oliver walking alongside his human.

JP could still hear the girl’s laughter echoing inside his head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a day late. I've been dealing with college stuffs and yesterday, I went over and hung out with CA. We were caught up with a writer's block, so we finally managed to finish this chapter. 
> 
> Also, I'll be the one posting the chapters since CA is still new to AO3. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, and we'd love to know what you guys think!!

“Remember, your next appointment is at 2:45 P.M. next Thursday,” the doctor said. Gunner nodded, holding a small bottle of pills. His depression had gotten better, and only with the advice from close friends did he start taking the medication. At first, the pills didn’t work. They made him feel worse, and it was to the point where he’d stay inside all day. His job as a YouTuber didn’t help much, so he had figured a small break would help him. That small break turned into a few longer ones, and it was then the doctors noticed something wasn’t right.

“The wrong prescription,” they had said. “Pills gotten mixed up.” **Fuck** them. If they hadn’t given him _those_ pills with _that_ prescription, he wouldn’t have considered suicide. Again. Luckily, they had caught the mistake before he had done anything drastic and gave him the proper medication. The pharmacist was immediately fired and replaced with a new, younger, and smarter pharmacist who could actually _read_ the small print. 

Gunner _finally_ felt like he was getting better, that his life was back on track, wherever it would lead him. YouTube was getting easier to manage into his daily life, or every few days. He had some pretty badass friends that occasionally call or text him for when he needed support. Donald was one of them. It had been years since they met, and though they’re not as close as Wade and Mark, Gunner felt as if he could trust Donald with pretty much anything. Checking the time, he sighed. It was around lunch-time, but he didn’t feel hungry. Again. 

_Maybe I should get something for my kitty-kitty,_ he thinks, walking to his car. If anything, he despised being outside, when he could be cuddling with his kitty at home and playing some video games, whether for YouTube or not. Sighing, he climbs into his vehicle and buckles up, revving the engine to life. _Bullet For My Valentine_ immediately starts blasting through the speakers. Gunner winces and turns down the volume. He wasn’t really in the mood to pay attention to the lyrics as he pulls out of the parking lot. He also wasn’t in the mood to think about anything, but he found himself doing so anyways. Gunner thought about his YouTube career, and his future. He thought about his friends and family, and the fact that he’s trying depression pills for them. Is he doing the right thing?

Maybe he should ask Gar for some advice.

“Dammit,” Gunner mumbles, slowing to a stop at a stop light. Though he hates it regardless, it was days like these that he hates depression the most. Gunner misses not feeling tied to cement under water, completely helpless and having to ask for help. He especially hated self-doubting himself. He had so many people that looked up to him, so many people that worried about him and misses his videos when he goes MIA. Though, some days, he just wants to recover. To take time to be himself, to feel okay again. Taking a deep breath, Gunner pulls into his driveway and parks his car, staring at the steering wheel for a few moments as he loses himself in his own thoughts. When he snaps back to reality, Gunner killed the engine and slowly gets out of the vehicle, making sure he had his new prescription with him. 

“Meow.” Gunner looked up at the window and managed to crack a smile. His beloved cat stared down at him, flicking his tail to and fro. Chuckling, the YouTuber locked up the car and headed to his front door, unlocking it and stepping inside. His cat was sitting at his feet, staring up at him.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t know how to teleport?” Gunner jokingly asked, slipping off his shoes. His cat only blinked at him. “I’m watching you, Fuzz-Butt.” He made the ‘I’ve got my eye on you’ sign before wandering into the kitchen, putting his keys and wallet on the counter. Hearing small paws running after him, Gunner opened the pill bottle while watching his cat with an amused smirk. 

“Meow.”

“I get it, you’re hungry, aren’t you, boy? Want some food?” At the mention of food, the cat started purring uncontrollably, rubbing his head against his human’s leg. “I thought so,” he said with a smile. Abandoning the pill bottle and its cap on the counter, Gunner walked to his kitty’s food dish, instantly filling it. The water dish was clean and half full, so the YouTuber let it be. He pet his companion before standing straight, going over to take a pill. Gunner winces as it slowly slides down his throat, leaving a _disgusting_ aftertaste in its wake.

_Bzzt bzzt!_

The gamer shoves his hand into his jeans pocket and pulls out his phone, smiling a little when he sees who it is.

 **Donald**  
hey man, how was the appt?

 **Gunner**  
it went ok. got the rite pills now. y am i taking them again?

 **Donald**  
bcuz u need them.

Gunner sighs, choosing to ignore his friend for the moment. He makes his way to the pantry, opening the door and peering into the small room. A small frown settled on his face when he discovers he isn’t hungry for the food inside. The gamer finally decides to reply to his friend, sitting on the couch.

 **Gunner**  
yeah ok. wats up?

 **Donald**  
about to livestream for the ablegamers charity. u?

 **Gunner**  
dunno yet. mite record a video.

 **Donald**  
sounds cool. talk to u later.

The gamer exits out of the texting app and logs onto his Twitter, smiling slightly at the comments he received. 

_”I love your videos, Entoan!!” “You’re the best!!!” “We love you!!”_

Yeah, he loves his fans. All 400 and something thousand of them. They’re always so supportive, and the fanart is always outstanding. Honestly, without them, he feels as if he would be nothing. Though there were some bad eggs, he didn’t let them get to him. Smiling, Gunner scrolled through Twitter and eventually Instagram. He made a quick tweet and liked a few pictures, but that was it. 

He was bored. Unbelievably bored.

Hearing his doorbell ring, the male stood and made his way to his door. A quick peek through the peephole showed that there was no-one behind the closed door, so perhaps he had gotten a package? Gunner didn’t recall ordering anything off of Amazon, and he doubts his friends and family would send him a package for his birthday _weeks_ before it arrived. He opened the door, quirking his eyebrow at the manilla folder that lay on his doorstep. It was one of those that has bubble wrap in it, but it didn’t look like there was anything inside it. Papers, maybe? Gunner glanced around, and seeing no-one, he picks up the folder and brings it inside.

“Strange, there’s no return address,” he mumbles, looking over the folder. The only writing had ‘Gunner Gumm’ written in a neat, feminine handwriting. A fan? Not waiting any further, he carefully opens the folder. Yep, nothing but a piece of paper that was placed upside-down. Gunner’s tongue absentmindedly played with one of his lip rings as he pulled out the piece of paper, moving slowly and holding it ever-so-gently as to not crumple it.

“Mreow?” his cat said, coming up to his human. Gunner flipped over the piece of paper and paled, his brown eyes going wide. He couldn’t describe how...how...how _macabre_ the picture was. It was gruesome. Too gruesome for him, even. A cold sweat dripped down his face, catching on his piercings as he stared at the picture. 

This had to be some joke. A cruel, definitely _not funny_ joke. 

“M-My history teacher from ninth grade..?” he mumbled, his eyes still wide. His teacher was drawn hanging by a rope of some sort, bullet holes littering their body. The sketch itself was black and white, but any bruising or blood was colored in a deep red. Gunner only hoped it wasn’t blood, but being too damn smart for a story, he knew it was. “H-hah…” Gunner dropped the paper and stumbled back, watching as it fluttered to the ground.

 _N-No...Th-this is ju-just some prank! It has to be!_ the gamer thought in shock, his whole body beginning to tremble. He quickly stumbles to the living room, snatching his phone and calling his mom. She picked up a few rings later.

“Gunner, baby! How have you been?” the cheerful voice of his mom asked. The sound of the smile in her voice made him nauseous.

“Mom, do you remember my ninth grade history teacher?” he rushed, feeling his heartbeat quickening even more.

“Uhm, I think so, yes. Why? Did something happen?” Gunner choked on a shaky breath of air as he began pacing his living room.

“C-Can you check the news? Please, Mom? And fast!” The man heard an ‘Alright, alright,’ from his mother’s end, and he heard her turning on the T.V.

“What has gotten into you? Are you taking your-” Mrs. Gumm froze, nearly dropping her phone. “Oh my god…”

“Mom?! What happened?!” Gunner began to panic, and the breathing techniques he learned from his therapist didn’t help him calm down at all.

“Y-Your teacher was found twenty minutes ago. The police are saying she was murdered,” his mom whispered, clearly crying. The gamer nearly dropped his phone, the room beginning to spin around him. “I’m so sorry, baby…”

A figure from the corner of his room smiled, an evil glint in her eye as she watched the male collapse. This was all her doing, and it undeniably wasn’t the end. This was only the beginning, and it was sure to get worse.

Donald stretched, feeling his back pop in multiple areas. He was finally done with the livestream, and though it took him around four hours, it felt as if it took him years. It was fun, and he had raised around two thousand dollars, so he felt all his exhaustion was worth it. He just couldn’t wait to go see his pals again. But for now, he logged out of his YouTuber identity as Dlive22891 and logged back into the real world as Donald Van Houten. The world where there were responsibilities to be dealt with and bills to pay. Part of him wished he could stay in the gaming world forever, but there were things to be done.

“Wow, gotta do that again soon,” Donald said, taking off his new shark hat. The viewers seemed to like it almost as much as the old one, so he decided to stick with it. Louie borked from his little doggy bed, catching the YouTuber’s attention. He smiled and stood from his chair, walking over and kneeling down to pet the pup. “You enjoy the livestream, boy?” 

“Bork!” Louie grinned and panted, his tongue rolling out the side of his mouth. Donald chuckled and stood, stretching once more. It was warm out today, so maybe he and Louie could go for a walk? That sounded like a good plan to him.

“C’mon, boy. Wanna go for a walk?” The gamer retrieved the leash and held it for his pup to see. Upon seeing the leash, Louie bounded to his owner, borking his little heart out and running in circles. Donald laughed, bending over to try and calm his pup down so he could put his leash on. Eventually, Louie stopped running around, but continued to wiggle in his owner’s grasp. “Boy, aren’t you excited?” Louie licked his face in response. Chuckling, Donald led his dog out the front door.

“Good afternoon, Donny!” the neighbor called, lifting her hand in greeting. Donald raised his as well, smiling at the elderly woman.

“Great day for a walk, isn’t it?” he responded. His elder smiled and laughed softly, making her way to her front door.

“No, it’s much too warm for these old bones. You boys enjoy your walk, okay? Don’t get in trouble, and come back for a cold glass of lemonade!” 

“Sounds like a plan!” Donald called, watching as she carefully made her way inside. She was a sweetheart, albeit a bit strange. Shrugging, the gamer continued his walk with Louie, waving to neighbors, other pedestrians, and strangers in passing vehicles. They all either responded with a wave of their own, a smile, or flat-out ignored him. It was rude, but maybe they didn’t see him? Oh well. Not everyone was going to appreciate his kindness. Either way, he found he didn’t mind much. Donald was in too much of a good mood to let a few sour-pusses ruin his day.

“Hey, did you see Markiplier’s new video?” Donald glanced over and saw two youths, most likely high schoolers, hanging out in the shade of a tree. One was leaning forward on his bike, and the other leaned against his tree. Donald presumed the lawn they stood in was the second male’s. 

“Yeah, what was up with that? You think it was another one of his ‘Darkiplier’ videos?” Male #2 asked. The kid on the bike shrugged.

“I dunno. Doesn’t seem like it,” he replied. The two continued to chitchat about random teenaged things whilst Donald was left standing in confusion. Was there something wrong with Mark? He’s played a few games with him, and he certainly wasn’t as close to him as Wade is, but as a fellow YouTuber, it still concerned him. With a sigh, he turns, gently tugging on Louie’s leash. 

“Come, boy. Mrs. Miller is waiting for us with some lemonade,” Donald says, trying not to worry about the famous YouTuber. Louie tilted his head, but followed his human anyways. The walk was brief, and though he tried to keep a happy face, he couldn’t help but wonder about Mark. He’d definitely have to check out that video, assuming it’s still on his channel.

“Ah, there you are, Donny!” Mrs. Miller exclaims from her open window. Donald laughs softly and waves to her.

“Is your offer still on the table?” he asks. Mrs. Miller grins at him, exposing her pearly white false teeth.

“Of course! Come in, come in! I’ll grab Louie’s biscuits!” Before Donald could decline the offer, the elderly woman disappeared. Smiling in amusement, the gamer opens the front door to his favorite neighbor’s house and steps inside, relishing the refreshing cool air that greets him. He could hear his elder bustling about in the dining room. 

“Be a good boy, Louie,” Donald warns as he unclips Louie’s leash. As if to say, ‘yeah, right,’ Louie bounds away to find Mrs. Miller and those _delicious_ biscuits while Donald slips off his shoes. “Louie! Dammit!”

“He’s fine!” Mrs. Miller calls, laughing loudly. The male rushes into the dining room, silently begging that his dog isn’t about to commit a mass murder. 

“Louie, down!” Louie looked over at his owner and - wait, did that little ass just _smirk?!_

He did. That son of a bitch. Literally.

“Louie. I said get. Down,” the YouTuber snarled. With a little huff, Louie got off the old woman. He was probably going to piss in Donald’s shoe later.

“He was fine, dearie. Now, about your lemonade,” Mrs. Miller suggested, trying to distract the young male. Donald looked up at her with an exasperated smile.

“Oh, I almost forgot about that. Would you like me to pour a glass for us?” he offered. Mrs. Miller disappeared into the kitchen and came out holding a small tray with two glasses and a pitcher filled with ice and lemonade balanced on her shoulder.

“Nope! And to think, I thought _I_ was the old hag around here!” she exclaims, smacking Donald lightly on his ass. The gamer stands there in shock before turning to look at her. She pretends she doesn’t see him looking, humming as she moves her hips in a way little old ladies such as herself shouldn’t move.

“You scare me.”

“Good.” With a wary eye on his host, Donald sits at the table after attempting to pull out her chair. Attempting, as in, she pulled a butter knife on him. There goes chivalry. Up and out the window, assuming Mrs. Miller hadn’t smacked it on the ass, first.

“So...thanks for the lemonade,” the gamer says, taking an awkward sip of the beverage. Mrs. Miller smiles at him.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. While you’re here, would you like me to read your cards?” Donald’s eyes flickered up to her, pausing mid-drink.

“Are you sure?” he asks, putting his drink down. He knows Mrs. Miller used to be some Tarot card reader, but he thought she had retired from that sort of thing after her husband died a few years ago. The old woman smiles at him before standing.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure, you know,” she retorts with a laugh. Donald sighs softly. That old woman is sassier and saltier than Wade, and _that’s_ saying something. Mrs. Miller comes back after calling something a ‘cum-guzzling ass-wipe,’ holding a box of ancient-looking cards. “Sorry for the wait, Donny. Now, after I shuffle the cards and cut the deck into three, you’ll need to cut the deck as well and choose three cards. Got it?” Donald nods and watches as the old woman expertly shuffles her cards, cuts them into three decks, and puts them back into one. With a shaky hand, the gamer cuts the deck like she did, albeit a lot sloppier, but puts the three decks back into one. From there, Mrs. Miller spreads out the deck and allows the male to choose his cards. She places them side by side, keeping them upside down.

“So, now what?” he asks. Mrs. Miller responds by throwing an ice cube at him.

“Shush it! Now, the first card represents the past,” she says as she flips it over. “The Six of Cups. It means innocence and nostalgia. I take it you were a very innocent child.” A nod from Donald. “Good, I’d hope so. The second card represents the present.” She flips over the middle card and frowns slightly. “Hmm. The Seven of Swords, which shows betrayal and deception. I wouldn’t expect a card like this for someone like you.”

“What does it mean, though?” Donald asks, leaning forward. Mrs. Miller throws another ice cube at him.

“Shush and let me finish, boy!” Struggling to find the ice cube that somehow made its way down his shirt, the YouTuber lets her continue. “The last card represents the future. Now, while the future isn’t set in stone, certain events can lead up to it, whether it be good or bad.” With a concentrated hand, Mrs. Miller flips over the last card and pales. In bold, black letters, the word **DEATH** catches Donald’s eye. He feels his stomach drop, and Louie growls softly from under his chair. “Oh...Oh my…” Mrs. Miller mumbles under her breath, her wrinkled hands beginning to shake.

“Is...Does that mean what I think it means?” Donald asks, looking up at his neighbor. Mrs. Miller’s wrinkled, blue eyes look up at him in fear.

“Yes, it does.” The woman leans forward, pointing a crooked finger at him. “You watch yourself, Donald. Bad things are sure to come, but they’re stronger than you can imagine. Be wary of who you reveal your inner thoughts and feelings to, lest you’ll be betrayed.” With that, the old woman stands and ushers the male out of the house.

“W-Wait! Is everything going to be okay?” the gamer asks, looking back at the woman as she began closing the door. Mrs. Miller paused, looking at him with a deep frown and fear in her eyes. She leaves him one final message before closing and locking the door.

“Don’t let them win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some information is purely fiction, concerning the lives of the YouTubers. We must keep the chapters going, but we're trying to make this fanfic as real as possible. Also...if you know the name of Entoan's cat, **PLEASE TELL US BECAUSE WE COULDN'T FIND HIS NAME. IT'S DRIVING US EVEN MORE CRAZY THAN WE ALREADY ARE!!!**


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! CA moved to another state for college, and I went on vacation in California. I ended up with a bad sunburn (developed an allergy to something in the sunscreen) and a huge ass bruise above my knee from a rollercoaster in Six Flags. 
> 
> We hope to get back on schedule with updating once a week. We're just trying to figure out which days would be best to write it so it can be up every Friday.
> 
> That being said, enjoy the chapter

Multiple genres of games filled the shelves. Horror, action, platformers, even some weird anime RPGs. There were games for each console as well. DSi, 3DS, Xbox 360, Xbox One, PS3, PS4, Nintendo Switch, Wii, Wii U, and computer games. The store held the consoles and correct consoles, with the addition of styluses and headphones, collectable cards and stuffed animals, and even little trinkets you could put on a bookshelf. 

Garuku took in a deep breath and smiled. Yeah, Gamestop was probably one of his favorite stores to be in. What was even better, he figured, was that he was in here to buy a game for his cousin, Trista. Okay, well, she was a close friend, but they preferred to call each other cousins. Gar looks off into space, presumably at the authors, and frowns in disappointment. How disappointed he is with these two silly girls, the two girls he doesn’t know even existed. Not yet, that is.

“Hello sir, welcome to Gamestop. Let me know if I can help you with anything,” the store clerk said, putting games on the shelves. The YouTuber nods and begins to browse the store, his eyes sliding over the games.

 _Which one, which one?_ he thinks, pursing his lips. With a few thousand games, it was hard to just choose one, and it’s even harder to find one as a birthday present. What do female twenty-something year-old girls like, anyways? Trista wasn’t one for makeup, so that was out of the question. Maybe he should find a multiplayer so they could both play.

“Oh, that’s weird,” the gamer overhears the clerk from earlier saying. Gar glances over, and for a moment, thinks that both of the store’s clerks were staring at him. With a shudder, he quickly resumes looking through the games, trying to ignore the feeling that they were staring at him.

“Yeah, it is,” the second, a short male with red hair, said. “I’ve never seen that T.V. act up before. You think it has something to do with the wiring?” Gar glances up, and indeed, the T.V. above him was glitching uncontrollably. He raises an eyebrow, but ignores it.

“No clue,” the first clerk replied, crossing his arms. He had dark purple and black-colored ‘emo’ hair and a lip ring, reminding Gar of Entoan. He briefly wonders how the new medication is working. 

Not finding anything that Trista would like, Gar moved along, still browsing the shelves. When he glanced up at the clerks, he found they were still staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“Okay, that’s just weird,” Emo Hair said. Redhead nods in agreement, not saying anything. A bit weirded out, Gar grabs a random game and goes to the cash register, noticing that each T.V. begins to glitch. With a wary eye on the YouTuber, Emo Hair rings him up. “That’ll be...uh…” Gar blinks as the cash register seems to be blinking, making it hard to see how much the game costs. He swallows.

“The price tag said it was twenty-five dollars and eighty five cents,” Gar speaks up. The clerk eyes him, not saying anything. Not wanting to cause the situation to be more awkward, Gar pulls out his wallet and offers the guy two twenties. “Keep the change?”

“Thanks,” the clerk says emotionlessly. He puts the money in the cash register and bags the game, somewhat throwing the bag at him. “Have a good one.” Nodding with a forced and obviously practiced smile, Gar turns and begins to walk out the door, the bag clenched tightly in his hand. 

“Man, that was crazy,” he overheard Redhead say. The clerk obviously wasn’t trying to be discreet about it.

“Tell me about it. Was it just me, or did that guy seem like some sort of freak?” Garuku hesitated, but forced himself to continue onwards, pretending he wasn’t hearing the clerks insult him. He was definitely writing a review after his met up with Trista. As he got into his vehicle, Gar noticed the two clerks were still staring at him, frowns on their faces.

“Teenagers are such jerks,” he mumbles to himself, buckling his seatbelt. He can’t help but remember what had happened in the store, and the word _freak_ echoed in his ears. Gar was sure he wasn’t a freak, but he was beginning to doubt himself.

The drive to the local Starbucks went by too fast for Gar, leaving him to wonder if he accidentally went over the speed limit. Seeing as he didn’t get pulled over by a cop, Gar brushed off that thought and parked his vehicle. He didn’t see Trista’s car, which made him feel a little better. He was sure he would be running late. With a sigh, Gar unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed the bag, and went inside. 

There were a few customers in the cafe, either sipping iced beverages, typing on laptops, phones, or tablets, or chatting with their companion. It was pleasantly cool inside the cafe, keeping out the hot air from the outdoors. Gar glanced around and easily found a secluded spot in the corner of the room. Smiling slightly, the gamer made his way over, his smile twisting into a frown when he notices the lights flickering as he passes under them.

“What the hell is going on?” he mumbles under his breath, taking a seat. None of the other patrons seem to notice the lights, which worked wonderfully. As he waits, Gar drums on the table using his fingers, beating to a random tune in his head. The YouTuber loses track of time after the ten minute mark ticks by, resting his head on his hand. He watches the other patrons boredly, finding nothing else to do.

Trista is late. She’s never late. 

“Gar!” a voice cried out. Said male snaps his head up and grins widely. With her long, straight, light brown hair in her trademark pigtails, Trista waves at him with a huge grin on her face and a sparkle in her gray eyes. The two rush over and hug each other, ignoring an _Awww_ from behind the counter.

“It’s good to see you, Ris!” Gar pulls away to grin more at her. The girl laughs softly.

“Good to see you, too. Sorry about being late. There was some major accident on the way over, so the roads were blocked off,” Trista explains. Gar nods slightly, looking concerned.

“You’re alright though, right?” he asks, leading her to their table. Trista puts her purse on the table, but doesn’t sit.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Shaken up and worried for the people in the accident, but I’m okay.” Gar nods. “Did you want to grab some coffee?” 

“Sounds good. Am I paying?” the gamer asks, a hand hovering over his wallet. Trista gives him a strange look.

“Do I _ever_ let you pay?” she questions. The male laughs and shakes his head.

“I guess not.” The two make their way to the counter, chit chatting until a barista walks over.

“What will it be today?” the barista asks with a smile. As Trista begins ordering, Gar looks around the menu. He’d probably have a iced chai tea to keep cool, and maybe a scone. Maybe. As he debates his order, Gar spots what he could only describe as sparks of electricity flying around the machines and lights. No one else seemed to notice the sparks, leaving Gar to question if he was beginning to lose his mind. It was when Trista called his name a few times when he snapped back to reality.

“Oh, uhm, I’ll have the iced chai tea with vanilla and a scone, please,” he tells the barista. She smiles and nods as she puts his order in, but the smile wavers. 

“Erm, one moment, please.” When the barista leaves, Gar and Trista look at each other and shrug. The barista comes back a minute later with the manager, pointing to the screen.

“Well, isn’t that peculiar?” the manager comments, looking thoughtful. He taps on the screen a few times, and when nothing happens, he frowns. “I’m afraid our computers are down, and we can only accept cash at this point. Sorry for the inconvenience.” Gar shrugs and begins to take out his wallet when he notices the little screen flashing. You know, the screen that tells you how much money you owe the business? That one. That annoying little shit.

“What the fuck?” Trista says, her eyes wide. Gar glances at her, but returns his attention to the screen. It began spewing out random words that didn’t make sense to either of them.

**DEATH**

**WAR**

**EVIL**

**CORRUPT**

**BEWARE**

“Death, war, evil, corrupt, beware? What does that mean?” Trista wonders, looking at Gar. His gaze remains stuck on that shithead screen, no emotion in his face. “Gar, you okay?” He glances over at her and shrugs slightly.

“Yeah, I am,” he mumbles, turning his eyes back to the screen. It had gone dark, but the words still burned in front of his eyes. What could it have meant? Obviously something was going to happen, but what?

“Here are your drinks,” the barista said, holding out two cups. Gar and Trista took their cups and went back to their table, the overhead lights flickering as they passed.

“Weird. They must be having some sort of electrical problem,” Trist said, her eyes fixed on the lights above her as she sits. Gar follows suit, frowning.

“What makes you think that?” he asks, thinking back to what happened at Gamestop.

“Well, Starbucks has been here for, like, five or six years, and before that, it was some barber shop. The building’s pretty old,” she explains, taking a sip of her drink. Gar says nothing as he slides over the bag, watching her open it in curiosity. “No way! You got me _Sonic Mania?!_ You’re the best!” The YouTuber laughs, but is cutten off when someone seated next to them curses loudly.

“What?! How could I lose my file?!” the presumably college student cries out, banging on the keys. Gar watches with guilt, not knowing why, but feeling guilty nonetheless.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles, wincing as the student let out wails of despair and anger. Confused, Trista nods and follows him out the door, wondering why Gar was acting strangely.

In all honestly, Gar wanted to know that, too.

Laughing loudly, Patrck splashes after Marie, his shirt soaking wet. They were at the beach for a well-deserved vacation. The wind was gone, the sun was out, and the water was perfect. Of course, he’d upload his videos he had recorded a week earlier, but that only took a few minutes. 

“Ah, Patrck! You’re going to make me fall!” Marie yells through her laughter, stumbling as the YouTuber dives for her feet, only to land face-first in the wet sand. Said YouTuber gets up, laughing.

“That’s the point!” He smiles at his girlfriend, watching as the sun shone in her dark hair. She turns and grins at him.

“Are you coming?” she asks, holding a hand out to him. Still smiling, Patrck stands and grabs her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. Marie giggles before pulling him back to the ocean house they rented for the weekend. “I have stuff to make sandwiches, if you’d like.” The male nods, mentally wondering what sandwich he should make. 

The small hike to the house was tiring. Sand dunes were everywhere, and the couple made a random path to avoid the prickle bushes that served no purpose to the beach whatsoever. Maybe to be a thorn in the side. One author grins to herself as she makes that terrible pun, whereas the other mentally wishes to throw a brick at her best friend. 

“Oh, your phone’s ringing,” Marie says as they step inside. Patrck rushes to his phone, but is too late. “Who was it?”

“Oh, it was Wade,” Patrck responds, furrowing his brow. He knew his friend wouldn’t call unless it was important. His phone alerts him to a text.

 **Wade**  
Emergency Skype call, NOW.

Blinking, Patrck goes to retrieve his laptop.

“Hey babe, I’ll be back. There’s something Wade wants to discuss, so I’ll be a few,” he informs. When Marie states her approval, the YouTuber goes to their shared room and closes the door. He sits on the bed, pulling up Skype to see that Wade was already sending him a video call request. Confused, Patrck accepts it.

“Patrck!” Gunner cries out, his eyes wide. Patrck frowns slightly, noticing that Donald, JP, Wade, Molly, and Gar were there.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” he asks, slightly confused. Wade clears his throat before speaking up.

“Mark needs some help.” Pat’s eyes go wide, his face paling.

“What do you mean?” he pushes. Everyone else goes silent so Wade could speak.

“He’s been experiencing some freaky paranormal stuff lately, and it’s been getting worse as the days go by. Molly and I have finally convinced him to reach out to a psychic medium, but he wants as much support as he can get. Mark already contacted Jack, Cry, and Felix, and as far as I know, they’ve agreed to come and have already bought plane tickets. I offered to ask you guys to come with us for support, and he agreed. Now, he’s looking for a reliable medium to call,” Wade says.

“Where are we meeting at?” Gunner asks, adjusting his hat.

“I think he said the Ace Hotel,” Wade replies. 

“When is all of this?” Gar questions, his screen glitching for a second. Pat wonders if it’s just Gar’s internet acting up, but from the look on his friend’s face, it was obvious it was something else.

“Well, we’re thinking about in the next two weeks. If you can’t make it, let us know.” Mumbles of agreement came from each gamer. 

“I have a question,” Donald speaks up. “I have a neighbor who’s kinda psychic, but she’s also really old. Would it be okay with you guys if she tags along? You know, for confirmation.” Wade taps into his phone, and after a few minutes, he nods.

“Mark says it’s fine. If any of you have an idea on who we should bring for answers, let either of us know. I offered to pay for their plane ticket and hotel room, so that solves _that_ problem.” Patrck nods, looking at the closed door.

“I don’t think we should bring our loved ones. Molly, obviously, is an exception, but we shouldn’t bring anyone who isn’t as familiar with Mark as we are,” Patrck says. Wade nods in agreement.

“That’s a good idea. JP, are you alright?” Molly questions, looking concerned. Everyone’s attention goes to the youngest member of the group, who looks upset with something. Dark bags under his eyes show his lack of sleep.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbles, rubbing his face. “I’ve just had a hard time falling asleep. Keep having nightmares.” The gamers look concerned, but when pushed further, JP brushes them off.

“Patrck, sandwiches are ready!” Marie calls, her voice muffled through the wall.

“Hey guys, I have to go,” Pat says, beginning to get up.

“See you in two weeks, bud,” Gar says. Everyone says their goodbyes before Patrck hangs up, a frown etched in his face. He wondered how everything would go when they all meet up.

“How’d it go?” Marie asks as Patrck enters the dining room. He grabs a bottle of Gatorade before sitting.

“Mark needs some help, so me and the guys are going to LA to see if we can help,” Pat explains, typing into his laptop. “We’re going in two weeks, so I’m going to order my plane ticket now.”

“Should I go?” Marie places a sandwich in front of her boyfriend. Patrck shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s fine. Besides, I’ll need someone to come home to, won’t I?” he asks with a smirk. Marie laughs. “It’ll only be a week, so I’ll be home soon.” Marie nods and sits across from him as he buys his plane ticket. Once it’s bought, Patrck turns off his laptop and eats with the love of his life, mentally frowning. _What,_ exactly, is messing with Mark so bad, he asks for his friends to fly all the way to LA for help?

It must be one hell of a ghost to do that.

“Let’s go back out to the beach,” Patrck says, picking up his empty Gatorade bottle and paper plate. Marie nods and lets him take her trash, standing. She waits for him to throw everything away before walking out to the beach with him. Pat smiles and holds her hand, but it falters when he sees a few teenagers playing around in the ocean. One of the males was playfully strangling one of his friends with a stray strand of seaweed, the friend making loud, obnoxious, and fake choking noises. 

 

The YouTuber’s fingers twitch, an evil grin sliding onto his face as he imagines himself being the one to strangle the kid. His green eyes dart around at the other people on the beach, and all he could imagine was strangling each and every one of them with a cable of some sort.

“Patrck? Are you okay?” Marie’s voice snaps the gamer back into reality. His imaginations left him shocked and scared. Patrck shook his head slightly.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Thinking about Mark,” he lies. Pat frowns even more. Since when did he start lying to Marie?

“If you say so,” she trails off, looking concerned. Patrck gives her a warm smile before leading her to the water, but his mind was somewhere else.

_Why did he enjoy the thought of strangling people?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated!!


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